Doomed to Fail
by Bobisanawesomename
Summary: Percy's always been different, that much he knew. But when he's sent to live with dad after several unexplained accidents, he can't help but wonder whether being different it good. With Poseidon's 'new' family, a blonde haired know-it-all and a prophecy, it turns out that glass shattering is the least of his problems. Percabeth. AU.
1. Prologue

_Chapter 1_

**Percy**

Percy sighed as he leant his head against the small window of the airplane, lazily allowing the pencil in his hand to go over the paper. He watched with bored eye as the finishing touches were added to his drawing: a fox curled up under the strangling roots of a tree. The child next to him was watching as he did so, which was slowly making him uncomfortable; he swore that boy hadn't blinked in the past three minutes.

Ten minutes and he'd be in New York City's airport, waiting for the father whom left him at the age of three. Then a further four hours within a claustrophobic truck and he'd arrive in a town to which he didn't know the name of. He'd never been there, but it must've been pretty bad if it managed to drive his mother out of it – the most patient woman on the planet. Though then again, she could've just left on her own - he didn't know.

A plane assistant came round for her last sweep, trying inconspicuously to hide her lingering stare on the teenager. He ignored it, finding it both swelling for his ego and rather disgusting that someone in her forty's was looking at him - a sixteen-year-old teenager – with such adornment eyes. He pushed down a cringe, waiting until after she left.

As he finished adding the surround shading to his drawing, he heard the little boy mumble something under his breath.

"Hmm…?" Percy asked, turning to face the boy.

He flushed red, obviously not expecting the teenage boy to hear him. "No - sorry, I-It's just that that's _really_ good," He stuttered, before going into an incoherent mumbling. Percy stayed silent for a moment, before nodding in thanks - not that the child noticed, being too stuck up in his embarrassment.

He heard the main announcer state that they were about to land, so he put his drawing utensils into the shoulder bag and got ready for the jolt that would follow. As the plane set down, Percy waited patiently for the people in front of him to exit, putting the bag on so that the strap went across his torso and the case lent against his thigh.

He quickly exited the plane, keeping his hood up and walking at a quick pace. Stuffing his hands in his jean pockets, he made his way towards baggage claim and waited.

Quickly getting bored of standing still, he took out a black ball point pen and pulled up the sleeve of his aquatic blue hoodie, beginning to casually draw on his forehand. Swirls and calligraphy writing quickly adorned his hand, spelling out words that too many, wouldn't make sense, but to him it did.

It took what felt like an hour for him to get his duffel bag, suitcase and guitar, and then exit through security. He blinked at the sudden light of outdoors, bringing a hand up to his face to block the sun from his eyes. It took several seconds from his eyes to adjust enough from him to see properly.

Outside, cars lined the street. People pushed past him, reuniting with people whom loved them or to just get out of there. Either way, he didn't really care. He had no idea who he was looking for, hoping that at least his father knew what he looked like. The streets of New York were crowded and crude, just like in San Francisco.

He never really understood why he had to leave; there was no specific reason for his mother shipping him away. Aside from the mild – possibly traumatic for some – accidents that had occurred whilst he was around, he didn't really do anything that made him a delinquent. People just thought that because he was always at the scene of the crime, and the way he looked, and possibly the grades he got in _some_ subjects. But, he didn't actually want that stuff to happen, it just did. Most of the stuff couldn't even be explained, anyway: The glass that had shattered in an argument with a teacher, the lockers that exploded next to a particularly harsh bully – things that he couldn't have done on his own. But alas, that didn't seem to be a valid excuse for his mother, hence why he was on his way to his father's on the other side of America; going from the 'oh happy days' of the city to the middle of no-where.

It would've been easier if his father had lived in New York - at least then he would feel like he was at home, with the tall skyscrapers and famous landmarks. But no, his father had to live in a small town with his new family and happily mediocre life. It made Percy want to strangle someone.

Just then, a silver truck pulled in front of the airport. Percy watched with fascinating eyes as the driver came out, eyes sweeping over the crowd of people. He was extraordinarily good-looking, with jet black hair and dazzlingly green eyes. Deeply tanned, he donned a simple set of beige shorts and a baby blue T-shirt.

The man looked at Percy, and slowly made his way towards him. Hesitantly, as if he wasn't sure he was making his way towards the right person, he stopped in front of him. But Percy had no doubt; this was definitely his father. Of course it would be. They were clearly father and son, and whilst they didn't look _exactly_ the same, the bloody well looked similar (though he was obviously more handsome.)

Of course there were a few more noticeably differences: He was taller by about a foot, and whilst his father – Poseidon – had deep-sea green eyes, his were more of a luminescent sea green. Poseidon was stockier, while Percy had a leaner, swimmer build.

After several seconds of silence, Poseidon cleared his throat, "Percy?" He questioned - an edge of hopefulness in his voice.

"That would be me," He replied quickly, wanting nothing more than to just go back to San Francisco.

Poseidon looked honestly surprised that it was him, looking him up and down, as if sizing him up. He smiled brightly, lighting his entire face up in the process.

"Wow… You've grown so much - and become such a strapping young man…" He said, sounding almost proud. It looked as though he was going to carry on, but the look on Percy's face must've been enough to stop him.

He replied, voice harsh with sarcasm, "That's what happens when you haven't seen someone in thirteen years." He watched as the smile dropped from Poseidon's face. It was quickly replaced with a wider, more fake one that made Percy want to wipe it off entirely.

He sighed, exasperated. "Can we go now?"

Poseidon blinked, processing what he'd just said. Quickly phasing back into reality, he shook his head slightly, as if to get rid of a mental thought. "Oh - sorry - Yeah, um, do you want me to carry those?" He asked awkwardly, indicating to the duffel bag and guitar case in one hand, and the suitcase being pulled behind him.

"No" was his simply reply, striding towards the car.

He threw the duffel bag and suitcase into the back, before getting into the front of his car and placed the shoulder bag in the remaining of his leg space. In that time Poseidon had made his way into the car, waiting for Percy to strap himself in.

Poseidon gave Percy a second look up and down. He wasn't how he imaged Percy to be, from all the conversations he'd had with Sally – Percy's mother. He held himself with confidence, spreading his legs wide and throwing his arms around hazardously over the car's interior. Broad shouldered with firm, well-defined muscles made Poseidon think that Percy was a fighter. But it was Percy's face that really got him: incredibly handsome, with a strong jaw line and well developed features, but with eyes that were abnormally bright and hair abnormally black. In a way, it did suit him surprisingly well, putting him apart from everyone else.

Surprisingly, much to Poseidon's delight, Percy wasn't dressed like he'd expected him too, also. A simple blue hoodie, dark washed jeans being held up by a brown belt, and black converses with the laces basically undone. It was a far cry from the leather jackets that Poseidon expected him to wear.

"Shall we go?" He asked, only to get a mumble in response. Poseidon swore he heard something like "_that's why I'm in the car_" in an overly sarcastic tone. Whilst the clothing and the appearance weren't what Poseidon was expecting, the personality certainly was.

While looking through the window, Percy noticed the child who he sat next to him on the plane waving brightly at him (or at least he thought it was him.) Why he was doing so was beyond him, but he spared the child a small, gracious smile. By this point Poseidon had seen his opening and was now driving away from the parking spot and onto the street. He wondered if he'd ever see that boy again, probably not, unless he was going to the same town he was going to, which is to say hell.

* * *

The drive into the countryside was awkward, to say the least. It took thirty minutes to leave New York, and in that time an uncomfortable silence had already fallen between the two. Poseidon couldn't think of anything to talk about – he had no idea what had gone on in his son's life while at San Francisco, and now it was really biting him on the backside.

"So…" he began, deciding that the first thing in his mind would be better than the silence that had befallen the two, "did you get the birthday cards I sent you?"

Percy scoffed. He knew the birthday cards in question, usually arriving on the wrong day with an impersonal, dull and almost painful message within them. This, combined with a child's hatred at that age made sure he stopped reading them by the age of eleven, and instead decided to bin them – or burn them. Deciding that Percy didn't really care about this stranger's feelings, he told the blunt truth.

"I threw them in the bin." He replied coolly.

"Not that you'd care, anyway," he added as an afterthought. Poseidon visibly winced at the accusation, though said nothing in his defence. His grip on the steering wheel tightened in anxiety; what else should he do? Leave the dead-end conversation at that?

"How are your studies going along?" He asked after several minutes of silence, his tone was hopeful, though his face didn't. If the boy in front of him was anything like his son, then he'd be acing all academic subjects, and lacking in everything else.

"Fine," Percy muttered shortly, putting his headphones in as soon as he thought Poseidon would ask another question. Thankfully Poseidon got the message, and silently drove on.

Music blasted through the headphones as Percy watched the stone building fade into luscious trees and hillsides. The once cramped streets of the city stretched out as they went through the suburbs, and quickly turned into a distant dream of the past. Two hours had passed, nine-tenths of which were spent in silence. Only two more hours and he be at his father's home, and then he'd have an entire year to spend with his 'oh so joyful' family.

By this point, he'd opted to drawing on his hand again, pulling out the ball point pen and continuing on his calligraphy "V." He turned the music down to mute, though left the headphones in so he wouldn't have to deal with Poseidon's attempts at social conversions. Sure, he could've left the music on, but he always preferred to draw in silence.

It took a further hour for him to finish off his little sentence - _superius locutus est, vertitur in mediis tenebris lux magna, _it read – along with drawing out several other figures; a skull, a piano, and various other things that came to mind. Poseidon, in that time, had turned the radio on and tuned into some music channel. The music was quiet, probably because he thought Percy was still listening to music, and didn't want to get on his wrong…- er side.

Looking up from his hunched position, Percy saw that they were no longer surrounded by the bright green colours of deciduous trees and blank fields of sunflowers and grass. Instead, a deep forest of tall evergreen engulfed them from either side, the ground covered in overturned soil, bark, and decaying leaves, instead of the dry colours of summer. The sun still shone brightly, and yet it looked more sinister and cool here than at the airport, probably because it had less polluted air, or something.

There was no-one in sight, which didn't surprise Percy, but still made him feel uncomfortable. Being used to having little privacy –as he was almost never left alone in San Francisco – the lack of people was uncharted territory for him. He knew they were close to their destination; the town was at the very edge of an evergreen forest, according to his mum.

Deciding that he might as well risk having to talk to Poseidon, he took out the headphones and wrapped them around the iPod, before placing them back into the bag. For several moments, Percy thought he was in the clear and that he wouldn't have to talk to Poseidon.

He was wrong.

"So what does that mean?" he asked, indicating with a nod to the sentence on his hand, "Its Latin isn't it?" Percy brought a hand up to hide the words, rubbing his forehand as if it would make the words go away.

"It's none of your business," He replied curtly, though not with unkindness. Deciding to move on quickly before he shut himself off, he chose another topic to talk about.

"You're going to love it here," Poseidon began, "Theirs a coffee shop and a skate park – if you into that sort of thing – t-though I'm not saying that you _can't _not like skating, I mean, you can…" Poseidon trailed off – Noticing how Percy was silent throughout. He took that to mean he didn't really care about what Poseidon was talking about.

To be honest, Poseidon would've preferred it if Percy was angry at him – shouting about how he left him all alone and that he hated him. At least then, Poseidon would know that Percy actually acknowledge his existence, instead of this cold maturity. He knew from the messages gotten from Sally that Percy was a very assertive teenager; willing to take risks and didn't allow social standings to get in his way. So when he came to pick him up, and this cold teenager brushed him off without a second glance, he couldn't help but feel hurt. It was like Percy didn't want to waste his time on getting angry at him – as if it didn't matter to him at all, or that Poseidon wasn't worth his effort. That hurt more than any shouting would: his own son thinking of him as nothing more than a stranger.

He then noticed the tips of housing in the distance, and the sudden end of evergreen trees.

"We're here," He said.

* * *

Percy sighed as he stretched his tired muscle. It surprised him how tired he was, after all, he'd basically done nothing but sit and draw for most of the journey.

The time at the moment was about eleven O'clock. He found it funny how he had to wake up at an obscene time just to get into Magnolia (he'd seen the welcoming sign, thankfully) in the middle of the day, while Poseidon's actual family was out and about.

It was a Friday, meaning that the son and daughter we're at school, whilst the mother was most likely out at work or something along those lines – or so he hoped. Of course, he'd been told about his step-siblings and what not before going on the flight, but he knew nothing else about them - not even their names.

From what he could see, the house was large and spacious, with a well maintained front lawn blooming with the fragrant colours of flowers. The grass was cut and a garden gnome lay next to the post box.

Poseidon went to the front door to unlock it, leaving him to get his suitcase, duffel bag and guitar case from the back of the car – his shoulder bag already thrown over his torso. Once that was done, He made his way to Poseidon, who was holding the door open for him. He walked past him without uttering any gratitude; the man didn't deserve any from him.

"Where's my room?" He asked once he was inside the house. _As I'd thought, Spacious, _He thought whilst looking around the room. Though there was a lack of both bright colours and furniture, the corridor was clearly made to look like that on purpose, probably to show guests that they were a wealthy family. Aside from a set of stairs, all that decorated this room was a single vase of flowers placed on top of a small wooden table. Percy could already see that it was just a mask, all he had to do was look at the mess that he assumed must've been the playroom, and he'd already figured it out.

There was silence for a second, before Poseidon replied, "Oh, um, up the stairs -" a pause, followed by the sound of a door shutting, "… right room on the right."

Percy quickly made his way towards the staircase, before taking the steps two at a time. He heard Poseidon's weak offer to help out, but ignored him. He found himself in another corridor, but quickly made his way to the first door on his right, as he was told.

Managing to open the door with some difficult, he made his way into his new bedroom for a year. Just like the first room, it was large and spacious and rectangular. Black, shiny furniture already lay about the room, but in no specific place. The carpet was a creamy white, much like the walls. _That'll change quickly_, he thought.

The wall furthest from him began at the top at an angle, before evening out to allow a large wardrobe to lean against it. Two large windows flanked the wardrobe, letting blinding light into the room. A double bed was in the corner, with a chest of drawers next to it. Dark blue bedding was thrown hazardously over the mattress. He decided he like this room, once a few changes were done to it.

Dropping the bags onto the bed, he opened the shoulder bag and took out a canister of paint. _Time to get to work, _he thought.

* * *

**Hello! Sorry this first chapter's a bit short, but I promise that the next one will be longer... hopefully. Please, if you do read this, then review - constructive criticism would be nice if I want to improve. Sorry about any mis-spellings and all that, and if your confused about anything, then please PM or review so i can either clear it up, or do something about it. I won't update phenomenally quickly, since I need to revise and I like to draw and all that, but the more review's i get then the more I'm going to be willing to write. And can you tel me if this chapter was too descriptive, it felt like it but I'm not sure - and i can promise that they'll be a lot more action in later chapters. Possibly.**


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2:_

**Percy**

Percy nodded in satisfaction as the final touches were added to the wall. After about four short, _short_ hours with an art canister and some stencils, and he was done.

The walls had been painted titanium white first, before he began with the stencilling. It took around three of the hours to get every wall done, but by the end of it, snakes had been tattooed black onto the wall, with their bodies being closely compacted oval dots, and heads open as if to attack.

It was one of his own styles - strangely reminiscent of tribal artwork, though with a few minor twists. Some areas of the walls had been flushed red and orange with paint spray, while other sections remained untouched by the warm colours. Now, all he needed to do was wait for it to dry, and then he'd be done. Music was playing loudly from his laptop, "Coldplay" echoing throughout the near empty house.

Crouching down, he quickly began to put away the art supplies, only glancing to look at his hands. He noticed – and found it actually quite funny - how while they were stained in red and orange and black, his clothes remained untouched.

Honestly, he was surprised how quickly it took for his room to become such a mess; he hadn't even started to unpack yet, so it really didn't make much sense. Old newspapers were sown all over the floor (he brought the old newspapers over with him, to minimise contact with Mr. Jackson) along with furniture moved away from the upright positions against the wall. The canisters were thrown hazardously over the floor, with his bags still remaining on the bed. He continued to pack away, throwing the paints into one of the corners, and the newspaper in the shiny black bin.

Once that was done, he decided that the paint had dried, and began to move the furniture back into place. It took a further ten minutes to put them in place, after turning the music off; even he got a little sick of music after four hours.

With everything done and dusted, he flopped onto his bed, kicking the bags off and laying down like a star fish. He listened to the silence, enjoying it just as much as the rock bands and alternatives that he so loved. It was short lived, however, when he heard the light hum of a vehicle outside.

"Great," he mumbled to himself, "now I have to deal with the rest of the family, _Joy_." He signed as he sat up right, looking out the window slightly to his right. Of course, all he could see from this angle was the cloudless sky and rooftops. He slid his legs off the bed and stood up, stretching slightly. His recent artwork, combined with his time on the plane and in the car, made him feel really quite stir-crazy.

He quickly unpacked his bags: slinging his clothes on hangers and putting them in the wardrobe, not caring if they stayed on of not. He put his boxers and belts in another one of the drawers – throwing socks in the drawer next to it. He threw his other shoes in their as well – underneath the quickly growing pile of clothes.

As he did so, he heard a door slam, quickly followed by classical music that made him roll his eyes. I wasn't that he hated classical – in fact, he quite liked it on occasion – but right now, he couldn't deal with it. Still, he did nothing more than block it out; he wouldn't be the hypocrite who said to turn it down and then listen to music as loud as he could (yes, it was normally that loud.)

He continued on, propping his skateboard against the desk and placed his art equipment in the chest of drawers next to the bed. He moved his laptop from its position on the bed to the desk, attaching it to its charger and leaving it there. He set up various other pieces of equipment – a CD player, a lamp, a TV (which admittedly had already been there) and a mirror – and finally decided he'd had enough of unpacking for the day. Still, he was impressed at how much his mum had managed to pack into the suitcases, even if it meant more work for him.

He felt a faint tingling in his muscles – the kind that made him want to run forever or do something incredible. He wanted to go and explore this place, because whilst he might hate the people, he certainly wouldn't hate the town itself. _Does that even make sense?_ Percy thought for a moment, before shrugging, _sure, why not?_

Deciding that he'd had enough of staying indoors, and being in the remote presence on Mr. Jackson, he yanked his guitar case from the ground and strode out of his room. He practically jumped down the stairs, taking them two at a time with well-practiced grace.

He was almost out of the door – hand on handle – before a voice stopped him. "And where do you think you've going, young man?" He stopped, if not by surprise than anything else, and turned towards the culprit.

A small woman was standing there, probably in her forties or so. She had light caramel blonde hair that fell down onto her shoulders in waves, along with normal brown eyes. An apron was tied around her waist, and behind it a simple yellow sun dress. She was pretty, he guessed, but her features too soft and round. He could already see that the woman was fond of food, so to say, with small pockets of flab handing from her arms and exposed legs. If he had to guess, He'd say that this was his step-mother.

He blinked, processing what she'd just said for a moment, "I'm going out, hence why I'm going out of the door – unless you want me to jump out of a window or something?" he replied, hoping that it didn't sound as sarcastic and crude as much as it did to him than it did to her. While he didn't want to be here, it wasn't a good idea to get on their bad side either.

To his surprise, she laughed slightly, "Poseidon said you were a sarcastic one - guess he was right." She chuckled some more, before continuing, "Just be back before dinner, at about 6:30, okay?"

He nodded slightly, watching as she walked off; back into what he assumed was the kitchen. He saw a little girl standing on a stall next to one of the counters_. Must be one of my step siblings_, he thought, before turning around to leave the house. He quickly walked across the lawn and onto the pavement, having no idea where he was going.

He walked idly along, only passing one or two citizens. It surprised him how barren the town was compared to the busy streets of the city, and yet he couldn't help but enjoy it; for once he could hear the birds in the trees, and the buzzing of bugs. Surprisingly, it didn't take him that long to find a park, and by extension a bench to sit on. There were few kids outside at this time of the day, the last stragglers quickly losing their effort to continue playing. Three old women sat on one of the benches he passed, seemingly knitting a large pair of socks.

He smiled; it was a perfect time for him to have some fresh air and some privacy. Finding an unoccupied bench, he sat down and pulled out his guitar. Making sure that the stings were in tune, he began to play. He had little idea what exactly he was playing (one minute he'd be playing 'Politik by Coldplay' then the next it'd be something from the Foo fighters) but it was always something that he enjoyed to do: playing music. That, along with drawing and sport, was his salvation – his way out of life. It gave him freedom to be and to do whatever he liked, something that everyone (in his opinion) should long for. He wasn't one of logical and reason, instead deciding to focus on the joys of life – what made him happy instead of what made other's happy. His mother understood him on that level, allowing him to do just that, but he wasn't so sure about Poseidon.

He could tell just by that one line – _"How are your studies going along?"_ – That he would never understand him on that level. That he would always prefer the ones he chose to stay with instead of him. Unsurprisingly to Percy, it didn't hurt at all to think about it like that – that he hadn't been chosen, but instead left and forgotten. He thought it had something to do with his childhood. How the childhood stick figures he drew from his imagination to prove that he had a father slowly changed into a blob a dark mass as the years went on. The humanoid figure slowly turning into a monster as the hatred grew and the questions came.

_Why did you leave me? How could you? Did you not care? Why, why, why, WHY!? _They were questions that constantly plagued his early teen mind, before the numbness set in. As he grew up to the age he was now, he realized that the hatred had meant that he _did _care about the man that left him that he wanted to actually meet and remember him. But the numbness was him accepting it, no longer having any connection to the man and instead leaving him as the black blob in his mind, the emptiness that would remain empty. Even after meeting the man he felt nothing, no hatred or pain or rage – just disgust that this man sired him.

"Let me guess, parental troubles?" a voice said next to him, making him jump and turn around to face the speaker. A girl about his age – perhaps a little older than him, sat next to him. Shoulder-length black hair, electric blue eyes, and freckles across her nose – all in all she was pretty hot. She wore you stereotypical punk styled clothes – the leather jacket, the black skinny jeans, and the combat boots – all of it.

He placed his guitar down and frowned in confusion, "what gave it away?" he asked, making the girl smile slightly.

"Oh, y'know, the angry look in your eye, the tense muscles… oh! And the gossip all around town - that helped," She replied, smiling slightly.

His lips quirked slightly, "Gossip around town? I literally arrived in this country hour's ago and already theirs gossip around me? Damn, I'm impressed,"

She laughed slightly, and Percy chuckled along with her, "In this town, Gossip is like wildfire: it spreads everywhere," She said.

A comfortable silence passed between the two, both of them just listening to nature and enjoying each other's presence. Several moments passed before the girl broke the spell again.

"Thalia," the girl said, "the name's Thalia."

"Percy."

"So, are you new here?" Thalia asked, turning to look at him.

"What gave it away?" He replied, shooting her a smirk. She returned a similar smirk, the pair of them looking like a trouble-making duo with the smiles.

"When you grow up in a town like this, it's pretty easy to spot new comers - especially the hot ones who everyone's talking about." She replied, before she began to click her fingers one by one with her thumb.

His smirk grew, "You think I'm hot?" He asked, feeling a swell of pride in him. Of course, he'd been called hot several times before, and each time makes his ego grow. But many were strangers at cafes, the ones who he would never meet again in his life. Though with this girl, he felt a sibling like connection with her already, which was a strange thing to feel towards a practical stranger.

She laughed, "Don't get your hopes up buddy; I don't really swing that way."

"Oh no, my hopes have been crushed," He said jokingly, making her smile.

"Ah well, I'm sure one of my friends would go out with you if you asked politely," She retaliated.

He laughed at the comment, "OH! I can see it now – a complete stranger, walking up to a girl to ask her out! Palms sweating, heart racing, face flushing – All because this girl was friends with _Thalia," _She laughed too, and soon they were both bellowing out against each other. Thankfully for them, no-one was in the immediate vicinity.

It took a minute for their bellowing voices to quieten, and their laughter to die down. To be honest, he had no idea why he'd found the concept so funny – but he did. A comfortable silence had once again fallen over the two.

"Y'know, you're really good with the guitar, Perce," She commented.

Percy grinned at the girl, "So I've been told," He replied. "I've also been told I'm very good at drawing," he added as an afterthought. She smiled, but unlike before, it was more of a wistful one than a happy one.

"My Brother used to be really good at playing when he was younger – until he just stopped. I myself have always been more of the _melodramatic_ one in the family," she said the last part dramatically, putting a hand of her chest and tilting her head slightly upwards, giving the impression that she was looking down at him.

He let out a quick laugh, "Ha! I can imagine that!" To which Thalia playfully shoved him in the shoulder. They exchanged a few more pleasantries; He was both thankful and happy to hear that they were going to be attending the same school – Goode high school. He learnt that Thalia, too, hated this place and wished nothing more to go and live by herself in the big city. He showed enthusiasm for that, saying how he was from a city and described what it was like to the now ecstatic Thalia.

Then, he frowned, recalling what his step mother had said about when he had to be home.

"What's the time?" He asked suddenly. Stupidly he'd forgotten his watch, and so had no way of telling what the time is. Thalia took a moment to look at her phone, before replying: "almost 6:15, why?"

He cursed under his breath, "I really need to go!" He mumbled, quickly putting his guitar back into its case and standing up.

"Nice meeting you, Thalia!" He shouted – grabbing his guitar case and running off, already several metres away from where he was sitting. He heard the girl shout a quick "Bye!" in response.

He hadn't realised that it was that late, having first been emerged in his guitar playing, and then his conversation with Thalia. _Maybe this town wouldn't be so bad_, Percy decided. Thalia was certainly someone who he'd befriend back at home, so maybe they'd be other like her who he could hang out with.

He quickly ran through the park, noticing how it was now devoid of life. The sun was still high in the sky, though was quickly lowering from its position. The children who once occupied the seesaw and the monkey bars were now gone, leaving the place silent of life.

He was almost out of the park when he noticed something glinting on a park bench. It was the same one where the old women had sat, making him think that they'd left something behind. Too bad he didn't know anyone, or else he'd be able to return it, Percy thought as he walked towards the now vacant bench.

He was now got a good look at the thing, standing right above it. It was necklace, from what he could tell. Thin black rope had been used to bind the necklace together, tied together by a single know, from what he could tell. What really caught his eye was the pendant on the necklace: a silver trident, attached by a small hole in the middle prong. Two sea green beads had been strung on either side of the trident, making the whole thing look, actually, and pretty cool. He felt a strange connection to the object, as if it was calling out for his; his fingers tingling to pick up the strange amulet.

Percy was cut out of his resume by the faint sound of a clock tower chiming – probably indicating that it was 6:15. Not giving himself a change to reconsider (not that he actually would), he snatched the necklace from its passive position on the bench, and continued his sprint back home.

He knew it was wrong to just take things that didn't belonged to him, but curiosity got the best of him. It's not like that's stopped him before, anyway. It was a straight forward run back to Poseidon's house, which made for a simple journey. Just like before, they were no pedestrians to slow him down, which meant halfway he could slow down to a fast walk. Several minutes later, and he walked across the lawn and wrenched the door open. Without missing a beat, he slammed the door shut and walked into the same room the woman had disappeared into hours ago.

As he suspected, it was the kitchen. Like every other room he'd visited, it was warm and spacious, with a stereotypical suburban furnishing and atmosphere. The woman from before was running around, furiously cooking with all her might. He thought he could smell lasagna. He saw how the kitchen led into the dining room; a rectangular space with a long table (he counted ten spaces available to occupy) made of dark mahogany, and opened out into a conservatory. It was nice, with an airy feel to it. He saw how there were five mats placed out – one for him, two for the siblings, and two for the adults.

Only one of the seats was occupied, by the little girl he'd seen through the open door. Like her mother, she had caramel coloured hair and a slightly more than average body weight, but she had her father's bright green eyes. Nine years of age, he thought, she donned a skirt, some furry boots, and a long-sleeved striped shirt.

She looked up when he approached, he whole face lighting up as he approached. "Percy!" she screamed, jumping off the chair and ran towards him. She slammed into his knees, making him stumble only a little. This girl was too cheery for his liking - and he didn't even know the girl's name!

As if reading his mind, she answered with a loud, childish voice, "I'm Lea! I can't believe I finally get to see you! You're nothing like Cyrus, which is really weird! He's like-!" She continued on her spree, continuously talking about things he wasn't even sure about. He lightly wrenched the girl off his legs, moving to sit at the table. The girl – Lea – moved to sit back in the space before he'd come in, swinging her legs vigorously.

He sat awkwardly, spreading his legs out and jigging his leg impatiently. Lea continued to talk, though he'd zoned out enough to not have a clue what she was talking about. Poseidon walked into the room, wearing the same thing he had in the morning. With him he brought five plates, placing them one at a time in each of the places. Their eyes met briefly when Poseidon placed a plate in front of him – wariness against the ice-cold. Lea's voice died down in the background, smart enough to realise the tension in the room.

Thankfully, the woman from before walked in, carrying a large dish of lasagna. _Hmph, so I was right,_ Percy thought, _it was lasagna._ "Now, Poseidon, would you go get the water from the kitchen, please?" She asked politely, moving around the table to put the dish in the middle.

Poseidon, after getting over the initial surprise of being asked, left with a quick "Of course, Emma."

She must've sensed Poseidon's distress, Percy thought, since as he was about to leave, he sent a grateful look in her direction, and she sent a small nod in acknowledgement back. She put the dish down, straightened up, and then tilted her head up slightly and cupped her hands over her mouth.

"Cyrus! Dinner Time!" She called out, before sitting across from Percy. It took a moment for her to move into a comfortable position, before she spoke. "So, Percy," She began - a bright smile on her face. "How was your walk?"

"Fine," he replied curtly, staring at the empty plate in front of him. "Just fine? Aren't you an original one," she teased, the eyes dancing with amusement. Percy remained silent, picking up the more interesting knife and began to trail its tip lightly over the plate.

The smile ebbed of Emma's face slightly. She cleared her throat slightly, before she turned to Lea – the smile plastered back on her face. "And how was yours, Lea?"

The girl perked up at the question, having remained silent all throughout the small converse. She began to recall her day, taking about people who Percy didn't know, but Emma would just nod in understanding. While Lea was recalling her day, Percy heard someone coming down the stairs. Poseidon came in a few moments later with the jug of water, followed by a boy. Percy assumed that this was 'Cyrus'.

He looked – without sounding crude – like a stereotypical geek. Short and lanky in stature, brown hair that had been combed down vigorously mobbed his head; kept down with either water or gel (Percy thought it was most likely the former.)

Thick, rectangular glasses sat on top of his button nose, framing his intelligent hazel eyes, nothing like the sea green of his sister's. A buttoned up, green plaid shirt had been tucked into brown trousers – with didn't look comfortable in the slightest, in his opinion. He was average looking – even if you took off the glasses and the abnormally flat hairstyle – which surprised him. In honesty, he was expecting someone similar to Poseidon in looks and stature, not a geek about his age who looked like he didn't have a clue how to defend himself.

The boy wore a smile on his face, until he saw Percy. His expression then changed from joy to surprise, then anger, and finally wariness. He walked across to sit next to his mother, leaving the space next to Percy the only one left. Percy could tell that Poseidon was uncomfortable sitting next to him, having hesitated when he saw which space was left.

Emma served up; one by one they gave their plates to her, who in turn would heap a large slice on the plate and hand it back. Once that was done, they began to eat in silence.

The lasagna was rich, but the conversation was poor. The only sound being metal scraping, clinking across ceramic. Percy just managed to eat most of it before he was full, chugging down the last of his water. He saw how Cyrus had left more than half of the portion, eyes narrowed on him when he looked.

Emma sighed at Cyrus as she finished. "Can't you eat just a little bit more, Cyrus? You need to eat more if you want to become as stronger as your father," she said lightly, sounding mildly disappointed at him.

"Or your brother," she added as an afterthought, seeming to ponder the idea as it came to her, "I'm sure he eats and exercises a lot to keep that shape." Cyrus's face flared up at the comment, while Percy's remained cold; though seem mildly interested in the way the conversation was going.

"Well I'm sorry I can't eat as much as _him_ over their!" he snapped, indicating to Percy with a nod of the head.

Before Cyrus could be scolded by Emma, Percy cut her off. "Aww, come on little bro, you don't even know me," he cooed, the sarcastic tone of voice making Cyrus angrier.

"I am _not _your _bro, _you little oaf!"He practically growled, his hands tightening around the tableware in his hand. "Cyrus…" Poseidon warned, his voice having an undertone of danger to it. Percy laughed loudly at the comment.

"_Oaf? _Seriously? Couldn't think of a more sardonic comment, could you? I thought you were going to be the smart one - guess I was wrong…" He mocked, trailing off to leave the insult open for them all to interpret.

Cyrus scowled at him, before it turned into an amused look, like he'd just thought of something funny. He turned his nose up at Percy, looking too arrogant for his liking. "At least dad didn't abandon _me_, unlike you," He smirked, thinking that he'd hit a chord.

To his- and Poseidon's - surprise, he laughed. A cruel, satirical laugh, that made a chill go down Poseidon's spine.

"Ha! Your right! He _did_ abandon me, but at least I had friends to keep me going – a concept you're probably not familiar with," Percy's voice was loud, resonating with everyone in the room. Emma and Lea stayed quiet, listening in silent fear as the argument went on. Poseidon, however, shook his head slightly, recalling how guilty he felt when he left his first child, but also at Cyrus's aimed attack. He'd already figured out that Percy had no emotional connection to him – why would he think that telling the boy something he already knew would change that? Plus, he'd figured already that Percy, when he needed to be, could obliterate any opponent; be it verbal or physical.

Percy carried on, but taking a calmer, more cynical approach to it. "Heard from a friend that you had to spend all lunchtime by yourself because no-one wanted you on your table – understandable, I guess…" Percy trailed off for a moment, enjoying the look on Cyrus's face. A cold smile made its way onto his face. It wasn't entirely true – Thalia hadn't _actually _mentioned him specifically, but when you're angry, you don't really think things through.

He laughed lightly for a moment , "I've only been here for a few hours and already I have more friends than you've had in a lifetime – what does that say abo-"

"Shut up!" Cyrus screamed suddenly, standing abruptly up. Breathing heavily, arms tensed, it looked as though he was about to lung. But he didn't. Instead, he stormed out of the room; loud footsteps went up the stairs, followed by the sound of a door slamming.

The remaining members sat in silence, staring awkwardly at each other and around the room – anywhere but the now vacant seat and Percy himself.

Percy cleared his throat, sensing that nothing eventful was going to happen again tonight. "Thanks for the food, Mrs. Jackson," He said, getting a vague nod in gratitude as he stood up and left.

He made his way quickly to his room, suddenly feeling quite tired after today's event. Throwing off his clothes, he quickly changed into a pair of baggy sweats, before throwing himself onto the bed.

As he fell to sleep, he couldn't help but think about how interesting it would be in this town. He hated the people, and he hated being away from home, but that was just the fun of it. It just gave him more of a reason to leave this town on its knees when he left.

* * *

**FINALLY! It took me forever to write this chapter, with exams and all that just killing me. I'm brain dead, and it's horrible. At least I'll be able to update a lot faster now. But anyway, I felt like this chapter was terrible - too repetitive and with loads of mistakes. Its all kind of depressing, but I really couldn't be bothered to check this chapter in detail. Remember to review and favourite. Constructive criticism is wanted (this includes spelling mistakes throughout the chapter, so I can change them), while haters will be laughed at. **

**'Till next time, good-bye**


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